Hanging On For Dear Life
by azulfanatica
Summary: In a swoop Calleigh had both hands on her partner, pulling and tugging as hard as she could. Their eyes locked, and Eric’s brown orbs betrayed the fear that his calm voice masked. Rated T for safety, not sure where this might lead.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Set after the events of "Stand Your Ground." Not beta'd. This will be a multi-chapter story. Constructive criticism much appreciated!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 1

* * *

"Calleigh!"

With that one desperate, gut-wrenching cry, Calleigh's world ripped apart. _This was a routine call. Just a routine call. Where the hell is Frank??_

She knew better. Even though crime scenes were supposed to be secured before CSIs entered, that wasn't always the case. Calleigh loved plans, but things didn't always go as planned. Criminals came back to the scene. Criminals hid.

Eric was just commenting on a cabinet that seemed to be out of place when they heard a noise coming from the back of the fourth-floor apartment. She took the first room as he headed toward the master bedroom at the far end of the hall, guns drawn.

She checked the closets, under the bed, "Clear!" In the hallway once more, Calleigh paused to check the linen closet. Then she heard Eric's shout of "Miami Dade PD," a gunshot, the muffled cries. "Calleigh!"

She wasn't aware of her body moving, only that she was suddenly in the master bedroom, headed toward the French doors, the balcony, and the man with the bat poised to strike an unarmed Eric. "MDPD, drop your weapon!" The assailant ignored the warning. His swing sent Eric flying over the railing. Calleigh saw red as she pulled the trigger once, twice and watched the body fall to the ground.

_Eric._ Fearing the worst, Calleigh rushed to the balcony, kicking the baseball bat aside, exhaling when she realized he was still hanging on to the rail with one hand. "Calleigh, get me up! My right's broken, I can't hold on."

In a swoop Calleigh had both hands on her partner, pulling and tugging as hard as she could. Their eyes locked, and Eric's brown orbs betrayed the fear that his calm voice masked. "Kick your leg on three, and I'll pull. One, two, three." _God he's heavy_, she grunted to herself. "Damn it Eric, pull! There, use your elbows. FRANK!"

Several heavy tugs later Eric tumbled on top of her on the balcony, knocking them both to the floor in a tangled mess. He was completely limp. "Eric? Eric! Talk to me, please." Calleigh shifted her weight to get a better look at him, chest heaving from the exertion of pulling him over the rail. When he was fully in her view and her adrenaline began to subside, she could see that his chest was heaving just as much as hers.

Eric's face contorted in pain. "Cal… Cal I can't breathe. Base—ball bat."

"Shh, shh, it's okay, try to slow it down a bit, match my breathing, 'kay?" How she managed to slow her own breathing to calm him down, Calleigh had no clue. But she spoke to him slowly and softly, caressed his face and the back of his neck, rubbed the length of his back until his breathing became a little less erratic.

That's how a breathless Frank found them, at last, with gun in hand. "Calleigh, what the hell happened?" The only emotions registering on Frank's face were shock and confusion, eyes wide at the dead body on the floor. If he was surprised at the position in which he discovered the two CSIs—also prone on the floor of the balcony— he didn't show it. "I heard the gunshots and ran back up the stairs."

"The scene wasn't secure, Frank. Get someone on the phone now, Eric needs help." Calleigh gently turned her best friend onto his back so that he could breathe more easily. Blood streamed from wounds at the edge of his hairline and the bottom of one eye socket, and he kept his right arm close to his body. Frank returned to the bedroom yelling full force at an operator to dispatch an ambulance.

"Cal—" Eric tried to speak.

"Shh, I'm not going anywhere. Try not to talk. You need to save your breath." Eric trusted her implicitly. His head throbbed, and every time he attempted a breath his chest burned with the fire of a thousand stabbing knives. But when he looked into her sea-green eyes, he knew everything would be okay. He nodded infinitesimally, and leaned into the hand cradling his face, into the body half-covering his own. Somewhere in the distance, he heard sirens approaching.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Set after the events of "Stand Your Ground." Not beta'd. This will be a multi-chapter story. Constructive criticism much appreciated!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 2

* * *

Calleigh could remember only one other time she had ever been this frightened, and that was Eric's fault, too. A strong sense of déjà vu enveloped her as she sat next to Eric's hospital bed and stroked his uninjured arm. They had been there for hours; Eric was in and out of consciousness, struggling to breathe without pain, and the doctors wanted a CT scan to make absolutely sure the bullet fragment in his brain wasn't jarred by the blows of the baseball bat.

Alexx sat on the opposite side of Eric's bed, a bit farther back than Calleigh. She said little, her few words only spoken to reiterate to Calleigh that her best friend was just fine. Her knowing eyes and secretive smile went completely unnoticed by Calleigh, engrossed by the man lying in front of her.

Dr. Rosas entered with Eric's file in hand. "He seems to be resting more comfortably now," she addressed the two women, "and his CT scan came back okay. In fact, do either of you know when Eric last had a scan?"

Alexx acted as Eric's unofficial doctor because he was usually too stubborn or too busy to make an appointment. "Last June."

"Actually, Alexx, he went back in September," Calleigh interrupted quietly. "He was having some headaches and…some other issues… and he went to have it checked out. "

She wasn't hurt, but Alexx _was_ curious as to why Eric hid his most recent medical trouble from her, and why Calleigh seemed to know so much about it. At her questioning glance, Calleigh continued, although more reluctantly. She knew it was important for Eric's doctors to have all the information about his current health and medical records. "He was having… visions…of Speed… he finally talked to Horatio about it and Horatio made sure _I_ made sure that Eric went to the doctor. Turns out they were transitory hallucinations caused by the tissue growing around the bullet fragment in his brain. I gave the nurse a list of his current medications. He keeps it in his back pocket…" she trailed off, looking uncharacteristically unsure under Alexx's scrutinizing gaze.

"Why didn't—"

"Honestly, Alexx, I think he was just tired of people asking him if he was okay." Subject closed. Calleigh Duquesne was in full protection mode, something that rarely happened with Alexx. As close as they were, this was Eric's business, and Calleigh would fiercely guard his privacy. He must have had his reasons for keeping this from his friend.

Alexx nodded, adding a small smile to let Calleigh know she understood. With that, Calleigh returned her attention to Dr. Rosas. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, this scan shows that the cerebral tissue has surrounded the bullet fragment sufficiently enough to protect from any further damage to his brain. It would require significant trauma to dislodge the bullet at this point. He is on an excellent medication and therapy regimen, and besides his most recent injuries, is very healthy." Both Calleigh and Alexx released sighs of relief. _Finally_, Calleigh thought,_ some good news after this hellish year. _

"Eric can go home tonight, provided he has someone to stay with him for the next twenty-four hours. He has a slight concussion, a few stitches to his forehead, three cracked ribs and a broken wrist. Mostly, he'll just be sore after the painkillers wear off. I'll send some home with him, which should help."

"He won't take them," Alexx and Calleigh said simultaneously, laughing at their oneness in thought.

Dr. Rosas just smiled and replied, "Police officers are all the same, beyond stubborn. Make sure that he at least takes some aspirin, and he'll be fine. I'll come back later when he's ready to be discharged."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Set after the events of "Stand Your Ground." Not beta'd. This will be a multi-chapter story. Constructive criticism much appreciated!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 3

* * *

Back at the Crime Lab, Horatio stood at the receptionist's desk debriefing Ryan and Natalia on Eric and Calleigh's crime scene when Rick Stetler sidled up to the group.

"Let me know what you find, okay?"

"Me too," Stetler interrupted. At Horatio's disapproving glare, he added, "Hey, IAB has to investigate any officer-involved shooting. I've already talked to Frank and Calleigh, and they corroborate each others' stories. But I need to be copied on all the evidence, here."

Ryan and Natalia nodded in affirmation before they turned and headed down the hall to grab their kits. Ryan even managed to refrain from rolling his eyes until after his back was turned to Stetler. "If he thinks he's going to corner Delko at the hospital…" he started.

"He wouldn't. He's too afraid of Horatio," Natalia smirked as they walked off.

Horatio watched his CSIs' retreating backs until they were no longer visible before he returned his attention to Rick. "If you think you're going to interview Mr. Delko today, you have another thing coming," he unknowingly echoed Ryan.

"I wouldn't do that. Besides, he took a pretty nasty beating. I need him fully functional to answer my questions." Typical Stetler.

"Horatio, oh, Horatio," a short Hispanic woman zeroed in on them as she exited the elevator. "Recibí tu mensaje. _¿_Lo que pasó? _¿_Dónde está mi hijo?"

Rick understood very little Spanish, but he knew this must be Eric Delko's mother. She was obviously distraught, and she knew Lt. Caine.

"Clorinda, tranquila. Eric's okay, he's at the hospital right now. Calleigh's— actually she's calling right now, hold on okay?" Horatio reached for the phone buzzing at his hip, steadying Eric's mother with his free hand.

"Caine."

"Horatio, it's me. We just got a report from the doctor, and everything looks really good. I'll tell you more later, but I wanted you to know that he'll be released within the next hour or so. Also, I talked to Pavel and he said that Clorinda was on her way to the lab…"

"She's right here, and she's very eager to speak with you," Horatio handed Mrs. Delko the phone with a soft chuckle.

"Calleigh, mija! _¿_Lo que pasó? Horatio me llamó y dejó un mensaje pero no me dijo nada. _¿_Eric está bien?"

"Yes, he's fine. I promise. He was attacked at a crime scene," Calleigh left out the parts where she shot and killed a man, and pulled Eric to safety four floors above the earth, and nearly had her heart torn from her chest. "He's got some cuts and bruises, a few cracked ribs, and a broken wrist. Nothing that won't heal."

Clorinda let out a deep breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Gracias a Dios. No puedo creerlo. _¿_Dónde están ustedes? _¿_Cuándo puedo verles?"

"We're still at Miami General. But he's being released soon. I was wondering if I could just bring him to your place? He'll be comfortable there, and well taken-care-of." She left out the part where she needed some comforting, too.

"Bueno, mija. That is perfect. You will stay, too. Regreso a casa ahorita; I will cook you dinner."

Calleigh fully laughed for the first time since hearing Eric's cries in that apartment. Clorinda would make a feast of a dinner, to be sure. Nothing was too much for her baby boy, especially when he was hurting. She hadn't missed the pain in Calleigh's voice, either. She knew Calleigh needed a mother right now, too.

"Sounds good. We'll be there soon."

"Gracias, gracias mija. Nos veremos pronto."

Clorinda handed the phone back to Horatio much more relaxed, anxious to rush back home and prepare for her son to arrive. She couldn't take anymore heartache; the last two years had taken their emotional toll on the Delko family. _Enough is enough_, she thought. _No one will take my baby from me._

Horatio could see the determination on his mother-in-law's face, and knew that she wanted to leave, but he needed her for just a few more moments. Keeping his hand on Clorinda's elbow, he brought the phone back to his ear, "Miss Duquesne, take the rest of the afternoon off and make sure Eric's okay. Call me later tonight, alright?"

"Sure thing, Horatio," she replied with her sweet Southern twang. Her voice already sounded more relaxed after speaking with Clorinda. "I'll keep you posted." Click.

Horatio closed his cell phone. "Clorinda, I want you to make sure they are _both_ okay. I'll talk to Calleigh later tonight about taking some time off, but you physically restrain her if necessary to ensure that she rests. Eric, too. Okay?"

Clorinda never ceased to be amazed at the kindness of this man. She rested a hand on Horatio's shoulder and smiled, "Always, mi querido. Ella se queda in nuestra casa por un ratito. I know she will want to, anyway." She smiled again at the two men and took her leave.

Stetler wasn't an idiot, despite what most people at the Miami Dade Crime Lab liked to think. He recognized the tenderness with which Clorinda Delko regarded Calleigh Duquesne, the way she called her "mija"; he noted with interest exactly how close Calleigh seemed to the Delko family. _Store one away for the books,_ he mulled to himself as he watched the elevator doors close.

Horatio didn't like that look on Stetler's face. He'd seen it before, and it always meant trouble. _I'll make sure to give Calleigh a head's up. Wouldn't hurt to quash any rumors around here, either. Those two are finally in a good place, and I'll be damned if Rick Stetler gets in the way._

"Anything else, Rick?" he sighed.

"No, umm, just the evidence. And I mean it, I'm fully in the loop on this one."

"As always, Rick, as always."

* * *

Rough translations for my very rusty Spanish:

_1. Recibí tu mensaje. ¿Lo que pasó? ¿Dónde está mi hijo?_—I got your message. What happened? Where is my son?

_2. Clorinda, tranquila_—Clorinda, calm down.

_3. Calleigh, mija! ¿Lo que pasó? Horatio me llamó y dejó un mensaje pero no me dijo nada. __¿Eric está bien?_—Calleigh, my daughter! What happened? Horatio called me and left a message, but he didn't tell me anything. Is Eric okay?

_4. Gracias a Dios. No puedo creerlo. ¿Dónde están ustedes? ¿Cuándo puedo verles?_—Thank God. I can't believe it. Where are you? When can I see you?

_5._ _Gracias, gracias mija. Nos veremos pronto.--_ Thank you, thank you. See you soon.

_6. Bueno, mija. That is perfect. You will stay, too. Regreso a casa ahorita; I will cook you dinner._—Good, my daughter. That is perfect. You will stay, too. I'm going back to the house right now; I will cook you dinner.

_7. Always, mi querido. Ella se queda in nuestra casa por un ratito. I know she will want to, anyway.--_ Always, my dear. She will stay at our house for a little while. I know she will want to, anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Set after the events of "Stand Your Ground." Not beta'd. This will be a multi-chapter story. Constructive criticism much appreciated!

Calleigh's character a little OC here, but I have a plan.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 4

* * *

Calleigh pulled up to Eric's childhood home, feeling a familiar sense of security wash over her. She didn't grow up here, and in truth, she hadn't spent much time here, but this house felt more like a home than hers ever had.

"Eric. Wake up," Calleigh said softly. He nodded off gently soon after they left the hospital, still fighting off some of the painkillers they had given him. By the time Calleigh turned off the car and got to the passenger door, Eric was (semi) alert and opening it himself. She reached out to stabilize him as he wobbled a bit.

"Thanks," he mumbled. "I'm good."

"I believe you," Calleigh chuckled, "but humor me here." That elicited a shy grin from Eric, who gave in and offered her his arm. Together, they walked toward the house, laughing as he missed a step on one of the crooked walkway's bricks. Before they reached the door, it swung wide open to reveal an extremely distraught Clorinda Delko.

Now, Sra. Delko was a smart woman—smart enough to recognize the look on her young son's face as he looked at Calleigh. She still saw that look on her own husband's face, one of unadulterated love and affection, the kind that lasts a lifetime. Not that today was the first time she'd seen that look on her son's face when it came to a certain blonde ballistics maven. And also not the first time she saw Calleigh return it with equal fervor. _Something is different_, _though,_ Clorinda thought to herself. Calleigh's walls seemed to have crumbled a bit, and her usually shy glances at Eric were deeper, more prolonged.

Clorinda held back every last possible motherly instinct to not go running to her son as soon as she set eyes on him. But another part of her motherly affection and wisdom told her that right now, Eric needed this time with Calleigh.

As soon as they reached the door, all bets were off and Eric was wrapped in his mother's embrace. Pavel stepped around his wife and son to give Calleigh a tight hug and a peck on the cheek, along with a quick "spasibo." He then grabbed Eric's arm and led him in the house, shutting the door lightly behind him. He knew that look on his wife's face…

Before Calleigh could even think things might turn awkward, Clorinda's arms wrapped around her in a warm hug. With tears in her voice, Eric's mother said, "Mija, I can never thank you enough. Never, ever."

Calleigh felt the rest of her walls crumble and a tear trickled down her cheek to land on Clorinda's shoulder. She felt safe here. She felt safe with Eric, no matter what. And she realized that that safety stemmed from the absolute, unconditional love pouring out of this family. Out of Eric, for her. Suddenly Calleigh couldn't remember any of the stupid reasons and lame excuses she'd had for not letting go with Eric, and her heart broke with the agony of lost time, of doubt and fear. _I knew how he felt. What if I'm too late? I can't just go back to being his best friend after this._

Calleigh's solitary tear had become wretched sobs; Clorinda held her tight and let her cry. From what Eric told her about Calleigh, this wasn't something she did very often. After a little while, her sobs quieted and turned into hiccups. Then Calleigh pulled away, too exhausted to be embarrassed. The older woman led them over to a wrought-iron bench in the little garden off the front patio.

"Clorinda, I—" Calleigh stopped, not able to finish. She dropped her head to her hands and just prayed for a way to understand all of this.

"You love him."

Calleigh's head snapped back up, eyes wide open and mouth agape. Her brain raced with a million different responses, but she could only think to tell the truth.

"I don't deserve him," she whispered.

"Mija, why would you say something like that?" Clorinda brushed Calleigh's golden locks from her face, gently picking the stray strands from her tear-stained face.

"Ugh, I don't even know where to begin," Calleigh lamented. She motioned to Clorinda, to the house behind them, "I didn't grow up with all of this. With a loving family, with trust. I don't know how to love Eric the way he loves me."

_And there's the rub_, Calleigh thought miserably_, because I've known that Eric loves me since after he was shot. And I've denied him and pushed him away and thrown it in his face. All because I'm scared I'll mess this up, or things will change at work, or I'll lose my best friend. I'm already losing my best friend…_

"Clorinda," Calleigh grabbed her hand frantically, "What if he's done waiting?"

Eric's mother smiled sweetly at the young woman sitting across from her. "Corazón, palo dado ni Dios lo quita. Pero siempre más vale tarde que nunca. Eric te esperará para siempre, no te preocupes de nada."

Calleigh sat in shock as she took in Eric's mother's words. Clorinda chuckled, "Come inside, mija. I am sure Pavel has Eric situated by now."

When Calleigh still did not move, she added in a sing-song voice, "Espaldas vueltas, memorias muertas."

Finally, Calleigh laughed a little. She scrubbed her face with her hands, straightened her tussled hair, and rose from the wrought-iron bench. Clorinda held the door open for her, but as soon as she passed over the threshold, she caught Calleigh in a fierce hug.

"Whatever happens with my son," she whispered in Calleigh's ear, "you will always have a family here."

Calleigh muffled the sob that hitched in her throat by burying her face in Clorinda's shoulder. After a few moments, she raised her head to whisper a heart-felt, "Thank you." She cleared her voice and the two women broke apart and entered the house, carved wooden door coming to a close behind them.

* * *

Rough translations for my very rusty Spanish:

_1. Corazón, palo dado ni Dios lo quita. Pero siempre más vale tarde que nunca. Eric te esperará para siempre, no te preocupes de nada._— (Corazón is…corazón, or heart. I don't know, just a term of endearment), even God can't take away a hit you've already given. But it is always better late than never. Eric will wait for you forever, you have nothing to worry about.

_2. Espaldas __vueltas, memorias muertas._—Long absent, soon forgotten.

A/N: I have always pictured Eric's mother as a 'Clorinda,' and thus wrote my story that way. However, upon further investigation (namely, IMDB) I have found that her name is, in fact, Carmen. Which--sidenote-- is weird, because that is my neighbor's name. Anyway, I will finish "Hanging On For Dear Life" using the name 'Clorinda,' but in all of my subsequent stories I will call her Carmen.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I am officially past some of the busiest and most challenging weeks of my young life, and I am celebrating by finally getting back to my stories!

Chapter 5_

* * *

Eric's mother smiled sweetly at the young woman sitting across from her. "Corazón, palo dado ni Dios lo quita. Pero siempre más vale tarde que nunca. Eric te esperará para siempre, no te preocupes de nada."

* * *

_

Eric had numbly followed his father inside, and not until he was already situated on the couch in the living room with a pillow and a blanket did he realize Calleigh wasn't right behind him. Nor was his mother.

When Calleigh finally entered the living room, Eric immediately noticed the slight tremble of her hands, the nervous way she approached him, and her red, tear-stained face. Clorinda rushed to her son's side before he had a chance to meet Calleigh's eyes with his own.

Although he relished his mother's love and attention, right now the only thing Eric wanted to do was make sure his partner was okay. The Cuban woman doted on her son, checked his blankets and ensured he had enough food to last him a lifetime (she'd lain out a veritable banquet on the coffee table and demanded he and Calleigh eat, eat, eat), and then she left.

Which was odd. Clorinda Delko did not just leave the room when her baby was hurt and in need of TLC. She hovered, pestered, smooched, smothered, and nagged. But she never left.

Eric caught a passing glance between Calleigh and his mother as the older woman exited the room, and once they were alone, he watched as his best friend actually turned sheepish.

"Cal?" he asked her quietly. The tiny blonde woman suddenly looked even smaller than Eric ever remembered. Eric slowly scooted over as far as he could to make room for Calleigh to sit next to him on the couch. Well, he attempted, at least. He cleared about three inches before his body sharply protested, and he couldn't fight the groan the movement elicited.

"Eric! Be careful," Calleigh admonished quickly, darting to her best friend's side to help him adjust. She tried to back away once he was settled, but Eric caught her wrist with his good hand and forced her to sit on the couch at his hip.

He captured her sea-green orbs with a meaningful look that stilled her fidgety motions by his side. "Calleigh, I'm okay," he stated softly. "I'm okay."

Tears welled up in Calleigh's eyes for the countless time today, and she forced herself to look away from Eric's deep brown eyes to keep from crying. Instead, she focused her attention on the brawny left arm now resting at an angle on top of her legs.

Bad idea, because Eric had kept himself from falling off the edge with that arm, and a vicious black and purple bruise now ran from the inside of his wrist, up past his elbow until it disappeared under the hem of his sleeve.

Eric was watching Calleigh's face intently, and he instantly spied the tear that escaped her long lashes. He bit back the lump in his own throat as he brought his left hand up to chase the salty tear with the pad of his thumb.

Eric's elbow rested heavily in Calleigh's lap, and at the first caress of his thumb, she dropped her head to rest in his gentle hand. Cal threaded the fingers of her right hand with his against her face and shifted to place a quick kiss in his palm. She squeezed her eyes shut against more stubborn tears, but the attempt was futile, and she gave in with choked sigh.

Eric continued to stroke his best friend's cheek, wishing he could simply pull her into his arms. That wasn't an option, though, so he did the only thing he knew how to do, and started speaking.

"Cal, everything's okay. Everything's fine. It's over." Calleigh's entire body seemed to be trembling now, and alarm flooded Eric's still-hazy senses.

"¡Escúchame, querida!" Gentle fingers forced Calleigh's face toward Eric's until their eyes locked. "Stop this," he told her forcefully. "I am okay. _We_ are okay."

Eric never spoke Spanish to her, unless he was trying to tell her something so Wolfe or Natalia couldn't hear. This time was different. His soft words, the delicate way he held her face— Calleigh was a goner. She let out a tiny sob as she dropped her head to his shoulder—the only place Cal thought _might_ be uninjured.

Eric wrapped his arm around her lithe frame and just let her cry. "This is ridiculous, Eric," he heard a muffled voice say miserably from his shoulder. "I'm supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around." Calleigh laughed wryly before she pulled back.

The look in her partner's eyes sent a shiver down the woman's spine. "Eric?"

He pursed his lips together for a minute and tangled his hand in Calleigh's in her lap before he answered, never once breaking contact with her glistening eyes. "You _are _comforting me, Calleigh," Eric declared intensely. "You're here. You're here with me and you're not pretending like we didn't just go through one of the scariest moments of our lives."

Calleigh nodded and a few more tears escaped her red-rimmed eyes. Eric's hand stopped its caresses on her arm and wiped away the salty traitors on her cheek.

"I _was _scared, Eric," she whispered after a while, finally breaking their eye contact. She stared at her fingers, confidently intertwined with her best friend's. "Really scared."

"You saved my life. Again," the man chuckled, drawing a small laugh from his partner.

Before Calleigh could answer, Eric's stomach grumbled so violently that she actually felt its vibrations. That really caused her to laugh, and the grin that spread across Eric's face eased some of the pain in her chest. He really was okay.

"Alright, Bat Boy," she quipped with a gleam in her eye, "You need to eat."

"As long as you never call me Bat Boy ever again," Eric warned her with a glare. "I will never enjoy baseball the same way," he joked.

Calleigh rolled her eyes playfully, but deep down she sincerely hoped Eric was only kidding. Besides swimming and being a cop, playing baseball was one of the things Eric loved most.

Eric picked up on her fear and squeezed Calleigh's hand tightly with his. "I'm only kidding, babe."

Both of their cheeks flushed crimson at Eric's little slip of the tongue. Calleigh recovered first, leaning down to peck a kiss to his forehead before retreating and sending him a heartfelt look. "I'm glad. I would hate for this to ruin baseball for you."

"Nothing could ruin baseball for me," Eric winked. Calleigh laughed and really rolled her eyes this time.

"Okay mister, what do you want first?"

Eric surveyed the spread on the coffee table behind Calleigh. "Oh my God," he groaned, overwhelmed at all the food. "Just surprise me."

Untangling her fingers from Eric's, Calleigh smirked and grabbed a plate from the corner of the table, piling it high with all of his favorites.

"Easy, Cal," Eric kidded, "Broken ribs here. No room to stuff myself silly."

Calleigh only pinned him with a reproving glare. "Exactly. Broken ribs. You need to eat."

"You're sounding an awful lot like my mother, Calleigh," Eric commented warily as he accepted the plate she gently laid on his chest.

He was contemplating the best way to actually _eat_ his food when Calleigh responded, "Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Mmm. A good thing, definitely," Eric considered with a laugh and a squeeze of her hand. "Just don't start washing my underwear and spouting Spanish proverbs. Now, hand me a fork."

Calleigh narrowed her eyes. "I will let you get away with that because you nearly died today…"

Eric sighed and held up his hand in Boy Scouts' honor. "Once I am healed, no more needy Eric."

Her eyes narrowed still, and Cal kept his fork at arm's length. "Fine, no more demanding Eric."

"Thank you," she said, smiling sweetly and surrendering his fork, watching as Eric tucked into his food. "You know, needy Eric isn't so bad," she trailed off with an impish grin. Her comment almost caused him to choke on a mouthful of ropa vieja.

After his initial attack on his mother's food, Eric ate slowly for the next half hour, occasionally making comments to Calleigh, but mainly just enjoying the silence and the closeness of his best friend. Calleigh didn't move, even though there was no good reason for her to stay so close to him. Truthfully, she wasn't even all that comfortable.

When she placed Eric's plate back on the coffee table, along with her own, Eric spoke up. "I don't like this arrangement."

Calleigh sent him a quizzical look. "You're not comfortable," he deadpanned, "and I'm not quite ready to let you go. So we need to figure something out."

Calleigh stared at her best friend speechless. Since when was he so brazen? The question must have shown in her eyes, because Eric slipped his fingers into Calleigh's and fixed her with a penetrating stare, full of hope and expectation. "I nearly lost my life today, for the second time in less than a year. I'm not playing games anymore, Cal."

Calleigh bit her lips and let herself drown in Eric's gaze for a minute before she moved. He didn't need to tell her twice. "Scooch," she murmured. Eric smiled happily and complied, with a little help. Calleigh supported his neck and back with one hand as she shifted to sit on the couch, eventually bringing his head down to rest on the pillow in her lap.

Neither of them spoke a word as they settled into the couch, and settled into each other. Exhaustion pressed in on both of them, and Eric and Calleigh surrendered to the quiet calm.

Outside, the hot sun cast its last rays on the bustling city, setting on another hectic Miami day. In the living room of Eric Delko's childhood home, the final dusty beams of light shone through the shutters, leaving two best friends dozing safely in each others' arms.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

Ten o'clock rolled around and Eric roused lazily. Something was tickling his neck, he realized, which felt kind of nice. The rest of his body, however, was screaming in protest.

"Cal," he whispered. The rhythm of her breathing changed a bit, but she didn't wake. "Calleigh, I need to move."

She shifted against him, sleepy eyes coming up to meet Eric's. Suddenly becoming aware of her current location, Calleigh's fog quickly dissipated. "Oh, Eric. I'm sorry." She carefully peeled herself from his side and lifted herself off the couch, stretching her weary muscles. Her shoulders twinged with the earlier strain of pulling Eric over the railing. She could only imagine how much _he_ hurt right now.

"What time is it?" she asked, helping him sit up on the couch.

"Five past ten," he responded, gingerly testing his aching body. A glance around the room told him his mother had been busy even while her son slept. The coffee table was void of the feast it previously boasted, and he noticed that a blanket had appeared over the two of them that wasn't there when they fell asleep.

"Ugh," Calleigh groaned, scrubbing her eyes. "I have to call Horatio. Need anything?"

"A hot shower and my bed," he said without missing a beat. "Help me up."

She wrapped a gentle arm around his waist and steadied him as he slowly stood up. The world spun. "Easy," Calleigh murmured.

"I'm fine," he sighed and pressed a kiss to her hair. He really was okay. Sore, and dreading the prospect of trying to bathe with stitches and a brace on his arm, but okay. "Go call Horatio, I'll probably be a while."

"Alright," the woman said cautiously, "but holler if you need something."

"Okay."

An hour later, a freshly scrubbed Eric found Calleigh sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of hot tea and giggling at something his father had just said.

"You're betrayal stings, papi," he called jokingly, knowing that his father was most likely regaling Calleigh with tales from his rather colorful childhood. He poured himself a cup of tea and joined the pair at the table. "Where's mami?"

"She went to bed," Pavel explained in his endearing Russian accent. "She wakes up at five tomorrow, to help with the festival at the church."

"She left strict instructions," Calleigh explained with a gleam in her eye, "that you are to sleep late, and I am not allowed to leave for at least two days."

Eric laughed. "Of course she did."

"We have enough food in the fridge to feed a small army," she added.

"Sounds right. Did you talk to H?"

Cal swallowed her tea and nodded. "Tripp tracked down the—" she shot a glance to Pavel and reconsidered her choice of words, "the man that attacked you. His name is Craig Leighton. He's wanted in Pennsylvania on a murder charge."

"Damn," Eric sighed. "What about the couple in the apartment?"

"Ryan took over. Looks open and shut—the husband owed Leighton a hefty sum of cash, Leighton came to collect."

"Mmm. Well, at least that's over." His voice was tired.

Pavel saw the slump in Eric's shoulders. "My son, you should sleep. Your work can wait."

"He's right, Eric," Calleigh agreed. "Horatio gave us both the week off."

"Bullet- girl? Take a break from her precious guns?" Eric scoffed.

She did love her job, and she hated taking time off from work, but Calleigh thought she could make an exception this time. It struck her as ironic that Jake had bugged and harassed her for weeks to take a short trip to Aruba with him, but she didn't think twice about spending a week away from the Lab with Eric.

"I'm turning a new leaf," she winked. Grabbing Eric's now empty mug, she shooed him away from the table and toward his room at the back of the house. "Now, go!"

"Night, papi," he laughed.

Pavel stood as well, arching his back to ease the muscles there. "Yes. Time for this old man to go to bed. You two behave," he joked over his shoulder on his way out of the kitchen. He said the last part in Russian so that only Eric could understand, but Calleigh caught the drift of his comment as Eric blushed a faint shade of pink.

"_Goodnight_, papi," he repeated.

Pavel was already half-way down the hall. "Goodnight, son," he said mischievously. "Goodnight, _moya solnyshko_."

Eric and Calleigh both burst into laughter. "You two seemed to hit it off," Eric stated with amusement. "Solnyshko?"

"Who knows," she replied merrily, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "He's a piece of work. C'mon, let's go," she said as she cleared the remnants of their late night snack from the table. The day had been a rollercoaster for her, physically and emotionally, and she was ready to put it all behind her. Well, not all of it…

As they walked down the hall, Eric said, "I'll get you something to sleep in. There's an extra toothbrush in the…bottom…drawer of the cabinet, I think."

"'Kay."

A minute later, Calleigh was brushing her teeth when Eric entered the bathroom with an old pair of sweats and a ragged t-shirt. "These are the smallest I could find. I'm sure the girls have some stuff around here somewhere…" Eric's oldest sister was almost eleven years older than her little brother; Mari was six years his senior and closest to him in age. For all of junior high and high school, Eric was the last one left at home. Thus, his sisters' things hadn't lingered in the house like his.

Cal pulled the toothbrush from her mouth. "No, these are fine."

There was something oddly familiar about Calleigh standing before him, talking to him with her mouth full of toothpaste and her hair pulled messily out of her face. "Hey, Cal." He set the clothes on the counter by the sink. "I, um, I know my mom set up the guest room for you…but I was wondering if you would stay with me tonight."

Calleigh finished brushing her teeth and rinsed her mouth out with water. She grinned playfully and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand after she spit demurely into the sink.

"Very ladylike," Eric smirked.

"Thank you," she smirked back and performed a sarcastic little curtsy. Her features turned thoughtful as she leaned against the counter and considered Eric's request. "Would your mom be okay with that?"

"Yeah. Knowing my mother, the spare room was her Plan B," he admitted sheepishly.

"I got that feeling," Calleigh noted shrewdly, somewhat amused. "Go crawl in bed. Give me five minutes."

Eric let out the breath he'd been holding and dropped a kiss to her cheek. "Thanks."

Soon Calleigh was rapping lightly on Eric's door.

"It's open."

He burst into laughter the moment he caught sight of her. "You're drowning."

Cal looked down at her apparel, tugged on the t-shirt and shrugged. "I take it you weren't exactly a string bean in high school," she commented.

"I take after Pops," Eric informed her. "Besides…swimming in Miami? You're pumping weights before you hit puberty."

He had a point. "Well, it'll be a while before you hit the gym again."

Eric leaned back against the headboard of his queen size bed and groaned in irritation. "Who the hell cleared that apartment, anyway?" he groused.

"I don't know. It's done, though, Eric. I don't want to think about it." Calleigh had plopped herself on the edge of Eric's bed, and now she was pulling her hair out of its ponytail and settling herself against the pillows next to him. She drew her knees up to her chest and crossed her ankles, arms keeping legs firmly in place.

"Me either. So, _moya solnyshko, _what are we doing tomorrow?"

"Whatever you want," Calleigh answered. Her attention was only partly on Eric; mostly she was looking around his room, surveying it for the first time. "I've never been in here before."

"Nope," Eric said. "What do you think?"

On the wall to her right was the closet and shelf after shelf of pictures and trophies, stacks of old cassette tapes and CDs, old baseball caps, and various mementos from his childhood. In front of her was Eric's desk and another wide stretch of wall that led to the door. It was covered in picture frames of all shapes and sizes, filled with memories of his family and friends. To Calleigh's immediate left was a small alcove with a bay window that looked over a garden on the side of the house.

"I love it," she smiled. "It's perfect. Very you."

Eric was pleased, and it showed on his face. This room had been his sanctuary growing up. Letting Calleigh in was a big deal for him, and he was glad to think that she liked it.

"Good. You know, I can't remember the last time I spent the night in here."

Calleigh caught the note of nostalgia in his words. "This place is special, isn't it?" she asked softly.

"Yeah. It is."

Eric turned his gaze to meet Calleigh's and got lost there. Her eyes eventually strayed to the bruises on his cheekbones, the stitches marring the olive skin of his forehead, and she shuddered. Scooting over to his side of the bed, she pressed a quick, feather-light kiss to his lips. Before she could pull away, Eric caught her lips in another sweet kiss.

"Night, Cal," he whispered, the corners of his mouth turned up in a content smile.

Calleigh bit her lip to keep from giving in to that same smile. He still saw it.

"Good night," she said.

Eric reached up with his good hand to switch off the lamp at his bedside, and Cal crawled under the covers, facing him. A good two feet separated their bodies as they closed their eyes and drifted to sleep, but both of them somehow knew that come morning, they'd wake up safely entwined in each other.

* * *

To the best of my knowledge, _moya solnyshko_ means "my sunshine" in Russian.


End file.
